


the end comes fast.

by unleaved



Series: all the right wrongs [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:59:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unleaved/pseuds/unleaved
Summary: Some endings come faster than others. Some creep up on you while you have your eyes closed. Some happen abruptly, over in the blink of an eye. Others again happen while you’re stock still and with your eyes blown wide open, unable to do anything as you see its rapid collision course; everything in you screaming at you to close your eyes and yet—
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: all the right wrongs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698547
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	the end comes fast.

**Author's Note:**

> They said, “Forsake mentioning Layla and her love!”  
>  But my soul, from loving Layla, isn’t repentant.
> 
> They said, “Layla tortured you with her love!”  
>  Isn’t it wonderful, that torturing lover?
> 
> And they said, “If you want to, you can forget her.”  
>  And I told them, “I do not want to."
> 
> They asked, "Does Layla make you live?"  
>  Isn't every man living for and driven mad by the sound of joy?
> 
> They asked, “Do you love her to death?”  
>  I said, "Speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life."
> 
> — Qays ibn al-Mulawwah
> 
> **content warnings:** suicide ideation, death, grief, mentions of parent/child abuse & child sexual abuse & rape, canon-typical violence.

—breathing. Andrew wakes up with a start. He doesn’t understand where he is or what woke him up to begin with, only that he’s lying weirdly and his body is numb but his hands are in excruciating pain, like he just put them over open fire. He hisses through gritted teeth as the pain shoots up his arms, consequently popping his ears. 

That’s when he hears the piercing sirens. That’s when he hears the frantic yells and shrill screams. That’s when he registers that the surface his cheek is laying on isn’t a floor or a bed, but the hard and cold surface of a steering wheel.

“No,” Andrew says.

He failed.

Someone is yelling something close to his ear, some hands are frantically grabbing his shoulders and moving him around. His mind is just cotton and his whole head feels like a blue, aching and throbbing bruise, but everything from the neck and down, beside his hands, feels numb. It’s like his head isn’t connected to the rest of his body, so when the arms move him around, the shift in position makes his head loll unresisting to face the other side. That’s when he sees the face of the body in the front seat beside him. 

“No,” Andrew says again. “No, no, no, no, no.”

He fucking failed.

“No,” Andrew says, trying to stop the hands reaching towards him, but his arms are weak and shaking and all he manages to do is cut himself on all the broken glass laying around him. “No, stop, leave me—”

“He’s in shock,” someone says.

“No,” Andrew says, thrashing around. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to ever leave this car again. “No, leave me alone. _I said_ , leave me alone, I was supposed to—I should’ve—”

“Son,” another says just as they pull him out of the wreckage, and that’s not right, that’s wrong, he’s nobody’s son, not anymore, he was never anybody’s— “You’re safe now.”

“No,” Andrew says, trying to hold onto something, anything, to stop them from moving him, but his arms are shaking, his whole body is fucking shaking, like the impact of the collision is still reverbating through him. He tries to blink to clear his darkening vision, but it’s not happening and all the voices around him sound far away, like he’s under water. In the back of Andrew’s mind, he thinks he might as well be. It’s what he wanted. “No, I should’ve—”

### #8 Natalie “Renee” Walker: _Take care of your own lot. I’ll take care of mine._

“—died. She died two days ago.”

Andrew lets the hand holding up the bottle of Fanta fall away. “You could’ve just said ‘no, thanks’ if you didn’t want it.”

Renee turns to him and gives him a brittle smile, but he can’t see if it reaches her eyes through the shades she’s wearing, the shadow from the parasol they’re sitting under falling over her face and obscuring it further. The sun hits Andrew directly on his face and he realizes it might’ve been intentional on Renee’s part, to seat them like she did when she caught the table.

The screeching sounds of wheels against a rusted railroad track followed by people screaming their heads off in a mix of fear and glee interrupts whatever Andrew could’ve said. Not like he was planning to get into it either way. An amusement park wasn’t really the place for that kind of talk.

“Oh, well,” Andrew says, “it’s no money lost on me and Kevin will never notice one wasted purchase.”

If Neil had been there with them instead of indulging Kevin’s dumbass ideas and playing games, he would say it’s only because of Kevin’s soft Andrew-shaped hole, a heavy weight in the middle of his heart, right beside his Thea-shaped hole and weakness for historical dramas. Despite the misunderstood propaganda spreading, the way they went about choosing who would pay for an event was a democratic process; a fair system to decide who they would shove under the bus during their times of need. Every one of the foxes had their turn paying up on more than one of their impromptu get-togethers, albeit some on more occasions than others. But snacks and candy in an amusement park was a goddamn joke compared to the time Dan had to pay up for a dinner party in a restaurant in Beverly Hills, the perfect way to hack at somebody’s dignity, one credit card swipe at a time. Kevin should just suck it up, especially considering he’s the one who’s using the most money, throwing it away on those claw machine games that even Andrew’s niece understood was a scam and she wasn’t even born yet.

He hands her one of the Pepsis instead, but she holds her hand up, says, “Oh no, isn’t that for Neil? I couldn’t.”

“Neil can faint,” Andrew says, putting the bottle down with a thud in front of Renee. “He prefers Cola anyway.”

“Thanks,” she says quietly with a small smile.

It’s slightly disconcerting, how he can’t read Renee’s expressions with her shades on. He can’t read her if she doesn’t let him anyway, but she never tells him unnecessary things and he’s not sure why she’s telling him this. 

When she’s already opened up the bottle and taken a sip, he holds up his hand towards her. “In return, I want the sunglasses.”

This time, she laughs. It’s only a sharp exhale through her nose, but Andrew takes what he can get. “You can’t put up the terms of a deal after I’ve already accepted something. I thought this was a gift, first of all.”

“You’re the one who’s in the shadow,” Andrew says, waving impatiently at the shades. “I’ll get blinded at this rate. Isn’t your whole gig about being a good samaritan? Come on, samaritan me.”

He can’t see it, but he gets the distinct impression that she’s rolling her eyes at him. She takes them off, puts them in his hands, and he puts them on before looking back at her. Her eyes are slightly red.

Oh. Oh, she’s sad.

“It was the orange one, wasn’t it? Fanta?”

She hangs her head, sighing. The sigh is a little shuddery at the end. Using her nails, she picks on the paper mache around the Pepsi bottle. “Yeah. She was old. Very, very old. Steph had her for more than a couple of years before I came around. I’m not sure even Steph knew how old she was.”

“It’s just a cat,” Andrew says. 

The sad smile on Renee turns sharp around the edges as her eyes shutters down without blinking. “Just a cat,” she echoes, licking her lips and looking away. “Yeah, Andrew.”

As everyone else in their little group, Andrew finds himself sometimes surprised whenever he realizes that Renee and he essentially ticks off all the boxes for what makes a friendship. Because Andrew and Renee are the most unlikely couple of friends, and yet Renee is the person who understands him in his lowest light, who gets his darkest thoughts, who understands why knives are one of the things that’ll never slip from Andrew’s trembling butterfingers. She reminds him of Neil in a lot of aspects. They’re from the same world, after all. It’s ironic that Neil is scared of her. Not that he’d ever admit it, even with a gun held to his temple, but Andrew sees the way he walks the long way around her. Out of everything to fucking scare him, he chooses Renee.

Renee, sitting in front of him with her head down because of a cat. Maybe that’s exactly why. That in spite of everything, her heart seems to have grown in size, too big for her small body. Renee understands the rotten part of Andrew’s mind but Andrew’s not sure he’ll ever completely understand Renee. He’s not sure why she’s still at his side sometimes.

She shifts in her seat, maybe to disguise her sniff, but Andrew hears it nonetheless.

He doesn’t hug her or pat her hand or nudge her shoulder in silent comfort. It’s funny. They’ve never touched each other outside one of their fights. One of the closest people to Andrew, and they’ve never had any skin to skin contact without the intent of hurting one another. 

Instead, he picks up one of the lollipops he bought, a green one. Watermelon flavored. Her favorite. He throws it so it rolls across the table to Renee. She looks up at the sound, and finally, she smiles.

“Renee,” he says.

She picks up the lollipop and the unasked question. “I will be okay. Don’t worry. She was sick a lot recently.” The plastic crinkle as she unwraps the lollipop. “The last months in particular were hard for her. I mean, I would do anything to have her with me now, but. I think she’s good now, in a better place.” She purses her lips. “I hope so, anyway.”

“You buried her?”

“Yeah, in the backyard.” Her eyes form half moons as a couple of kids run past them, racing each other and yelling. “A headstone and everything.”

Why the fuck were they having this conversation in an amusement park again? They’re sitting too close to one of the roller coasters. Every other minute they hear the unmistakable sound of a car sliding down across a railtrack, the teeth grinding sensation of metal on metal giving Andrew a headache. And that’s not mentioning the constant screaming. Maybe he should have a few words with the person who suggested coming here. They were too old to be in an amusement park without kids of their own. He’s sure it’s Allison. He wouldn’t put it past her to choose this venue specifically to fuck with him.

He has half a mind to just walk away then and there, his lungs burning for a smoke, but the talk about burials reminds him of something he has had in the back of his mind ever since his accident. He leans back in his chair, kicks Renee lightly on the side of her foot to get her attention. “When I die, promise me you will make Neil cremate me no matter what.”

Renee’s eyes are immediately on him. They flit all over his face when she can’t make eye contact through the shades, but Andrew is looking straight back at her. “You won’t die anytime soon, Andrew.”

“We all die eventually, Renee,” Andrew says, shrugging. She looks unimpressed. 

“Andrew,” she says in that particular voice, and it’s telling that she feels she has to remind him. It’s the same voice she used whenever she locked herself inside the supply closet with him that first year, whenever he hid there to crash and burn in all his lonesome self after a game without his meds. It’s the same voice she used to talk about faith and luck. It’s the same voice she used when she said, “In my world, trust is a business with a body count.”

Renee trusts him. The only thing she asks in return is that he trusts her. 

God, he really wants a smoke.

He takes a lollipop out from the candy bag instead, a strawberry one, and rips off the wrappings. “I just,” he says, putting the candy in his mouth as fast as possible and hating himself for the tremors in his hands. They always look worse when he’s holding onto something. “I can’t stand the thought of my whole body just lying there, six feet under.”

Renee tilts her head, drums her fingers against the table as she inspects him. He lifts the shades and puts them on the crown of his head to raise an eyebrow at her. Whatever she sees in his eyes seems to satisfy her, as she says, “Okay, Andrew. I’ll make sure.” There’s a loud crack as Renee bites down on her lollipop. Andrew has this theory that Renee needs to store her patience; that’s why she has none for candies. She eats the sugar chunks, says, “Bold of you to assume that you’ll die before me, though.”

“Sorry, what do you do again? I play one of the most dangerous sports on two feet for a living. I could’ve died a few days ago.”

The easy smile on Renee’s face slips away like soap. “I know. I saw the game live. You okay now?”

The question is almost enough to make him groan. He’s heard it too many times in the last few days. “I would better if people stopped asking me that question and forcing me to say the stupid phrase, but I’m fine. No concussion, no broken bones, not even a single bump. I’m fine.”

“Well. You said it. It could’ve gone horribly wrong. You could’ve died.”

Andrew sighs. Puts the shades over his eyes again. Wraps his tongue around the lollipop and says, “No, I couldn’t.”

“Sorry,” Renee says, “I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

Andrew shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

Renee hums. Then something catches her eye over Andrew’s shoulder.

“Looks like your lot is back,” Renee says, nodding.

Andrew turns his head to see Neil, Kevin, Nicky and Aaron walking towards them. Kevin is holding up a map of the amusement park in front of him, frowning at it like it just cursed out his mother, while Nicky is prodding at him, wildly gesticulating and pointing towards something in the opposite direction. Neil is walking beside them, drinking from a slurpee, mouth biting down at the straw. As if noticing Andrew’s eyes on him, his head snaps up. Neil smiles at him, before he wraps his lips around the straw and hollows his cheeks, never breaking eye contact, the fucking brat.

Aaron is holding Katelyn’s hand, and their intertwined hands are lying on top of Katelyn’s flat stomach.

“Ah,” Andrew says, “the peanut gallery.”

Turning back around, he sees Renee holding her hand out towards him. She points at her red eyes, and silently, Andrew gives her the shades back.

“Hey, Renee,” Andrew says, watching her eyes disappear and two tiny reflections of himself appear in front of him. “Did I do good on my promise?”

“Which one?” Renee says, her grin sudden and sharp. “You’re usually a man of your word. The one about you never picking up Dan’s calls? The one about you never pulling your punches on me ever again? Or,” here she goes more quiet with the realization, “the one about taking care of— Yeah, Andrew. I’d say you kept it and did it well.”

Andrew holds up his hand to shield the sun, to properly look at her.

Renee’s grin grows soft at his stare, the smile a little sad. “I wasn’t a part of that promise, Andrew, I wasn’t part of your lot, remember? You’re okay. We’re okay. Please, don’t make me find a package with holes in front of my apartment, only for me to open it and see a young, orange kitten meowing at me.”

“You’d want her back?” Andrew says. “I’d get her back for you.”

Renee only smiles at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Andrew says at the mushy vibes pressing at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Renee says, taking a sip of the Pepsi. “Was just thinking that you’ve mellowed out in your old age.”

“You’re older than me.”

Nicky’s grating laughter breaks through the walls of sound around them, and suddenly the gang is all there, rearranging the seats around them and sitting down. Renee ends up at his side of the table beside him, Neil on his other side, and she leans towards him.

“Isn’t the world beautiful?” Renee says and turning her face towards the sun, the sun glinting off her shades. “The sun is so warm on my face. It’s almost enough to make me cry. It’s a good—”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't think i mentioned it in the notes of my reupload of _Inevitably, like a car crash,_ , but i've always had this headcanon that andrew killed tilda in a murder-suicide attempt, deliberately driving the car to crash and crash hard. anyway, this thing has been in my google docs for three years, and i thought it was high time to post it, if only to force myself to finish it. there's a happy ending in this one, i promise, but first, we're going to see andrew's part of this story.
> 
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated! hope everyone is staying safe during these times <3


End file.
